Sinners – 3 stars out of 4
The mythology of the blues tells the story of a musician who meets the devil at a deserted crossroads to sell his soul in exchange for a supernatural ability to play the guitar. Most often the story is tied to Robert Johnson, a legendary bluesman whose work in the 1930s is considered fundamental to the genre. Ryan Coogler’s “Sinners” explores that conflicted relationship between music and faith, specifically within the culture of Black America.
The story follows a young and upcoming bluesman named Sammie (Miles Caton), who joins his infamous cousins the Smokestack Brothers (twin siblings played by Michael B. Jordan) in their effort to open a Juke Joint outside Clarksdale, Mississippi. Sammie is a gifted musician, but his father is a preacher, and the conflict between the church and the draw of the “devil’s music” establishes one of “Sinners'” primary themes.
Most of the first half of the film follows Sammie and the Smokestack Brothers on a vaguely Blues Brothers-like quest to recruit everyone they need to put on the opening night event. They encounter musicians, bouncers, and old flames, and take in all kinds of beautiful vistas of the Deep South, evoking the imagery of “O Brother, Where Art Thou?”
It isn’t until all these pieces are in place that the more explicit conflict of “Sinners” digs in, though. While much of the focus is on the music–which is fantastic–a supernatural force is threatening the brothers’ dream from outside the venue in the form of a vampiric virus that is gathering its own recruits to crash the opening night festivities. If this reminds you of “From Dusk Till Dawn,” you won’t be alone, but luckily, “Sinners” offers enough creativity to make comparisons to other films feel more complimentary than derivative.
Aside from the aforementioned visuals and the excellent music, there are plenty of other draws to Coogler’s effort. The film benefits from a strong cast and some compelling writing, and though Jordan’s performances feel like they could have been a little more differentiated, the technical execution hides any suggestion that body doubles or computer assists are being employed.
The story itself is pretty straightforward, but audiences may split in their interpretations of the film’s themes and messaging. It’s interesting to note that while the vampires may be trying to get in the venue from the outside, the devil is already hard at work in the event. The Smokestack brothers are anything but saints, and Slim’s undeterred efforts to seduce a married woman suggest his ties to the church are fleeting at best. And while a surprise epilogue is a fun bonus for blues fans, its outcome further clouds the film’s message.
Altogether, “Sinners” paints a compelling if ambiguous portrait of the conflicted role of faith within black music. It’s an entertaining film with an engaging story, but it feels more satisfying on the surface than if you mine the depths of its themes and messages. The power of music is tied to both good and evil, but “Sinners” leaves the dividing lines up to the beholder.
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“Sinners” is rated R for some graphic violence, profanity, and sexual content.